A locked heart, sewn lips- evoke only desperation,

Depression rising from within for being unable to reach compassion,

Sometimes even truth maybe veiled by black curtains set up by forces beyond our reach...

Another sentence awaiting them, who deserve a chance to speak.

Who are we if 'humane' is but a word?

Shouldn't it be less so and more like a sword?

A weapon for the ultimate demise of the evil lurking within,

Setting the light free and letting what's right to win,

There are ways of seeing things than seeing what we are forced to see;

Seeing and being what isn't, but what should've been.

~Broken-hearted Beggar